


Death Meets an Alien

by threewalls



Category: Star Ocean: The Last Hope
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Aliens, First Meetings, Gen, Mid-Canon, Military Ranks, Missing Scene, Rescue, Sharing a Room, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 23:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><cite>The guard has red hair. He's sitting on the other bed in the room, identical to Arumat's own. Arumat doesn't recognise the species at first. Earthlings, the new guys in space, huh.</cite></p><p>Arumat meets Crowe for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death Meets an Alien

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to lynndyre for beta and the title.

Arumat wakes up on a bed. Infirmary, he guesses, since the bandages wound tight around his chest and limbs are the only items he can feel that might pass for restraints. It doesn't smell like an Eldarian infirmary, but it doesn't smell of smoke, either.

Arumat breathes in and out, measured, full capacity; he tenses and releases muscles, working from his feet up, taking inventory; he has no idea where, or even if, his scythe is around. He'll be able to fight, bare-handed if necessary.

The reports concur: the phantoms take no prisoners.

The room contains only one other person, someone breathing comfortably, and just barely tapping his foot against the floor, quiet, probably only registers as flexing, if it registers at all. A guard, fidgeting. Arumat wonders how long he's been unconsciousness, how many days it's been since--

He opens his eyes to slits, adjusting to the brightness of the room. The guard has red hair. He's sitting on the other bed in the room, identical to Arumat's own. Arumat doesn't recognise the species at first. Earthlings, the new guys in space, huh.

"Hailing distance of the Eldarian fleet in fifteen minutes, Captain," says a high-pitched voice over a radio.

"Acknowledged, Hwang," replies the redhead. "I'll be over there shortly."

He stands up from the other bed, rakes a hand through his hair and turns. Arumat's reflexes are unfortunately still dulled by his healing injuries. He cannot move as silently as he would wish. Instead of leaving, the earthling turns.

"You're awake? Can you understand me?"

With Arumat sitting up, the height difference is less. If he were standing, it would be in his favour. There's only one exit to the room, behind the earthling. His scythe is propped up against the wall, also behind the earthling. In answer to the question, Arumat nods once.

Crowe touches his armoured throat, bending his head down to talk to his chest. "Hwang, I might be delayed. Sleeping Beauty just woke up."

The same disembodied voice comes back: "Understood, Captain. It's all quiet out here, anyway. For now."

"Copy that, Hwang. Almedio out."

"Hey. So, you must be wondering where you are. This is the Aquila. We're from Earth."

Almedio's grin disappears. Arumat could have predicted what he says next. Of course Arumat's the only survivor. He knew that before he blacked out on his own ship.

"You're the captain of this vessel," Arumat says, interrupting the man's condolences.

"Crowe F. Almedio. Pleased to meet you."

"Arumat P. Thanatos, 13th Independent Armoured Division." He glanced at Crowe's outstretched hand. "Captain Almedio--"

"I picked you up out of the captain's chair. We're equal rank, right? Call me Crowe."

"Crowe." The informality leaves his mouth without thought; then Arumat pauses. "Are you here to check if I'm a hostile?"

"You were out cold when I found you, so I guess that probably would have been a good idea." The earthling laughs, settling back into what Arumat surmises is a customary grin. "Are you a hostile?"

Crowe's posture is relaxed; Arumat cannot gauge if it's confidence or incompetence. His grin is disarming. Arumat's empathic abilities are low level. He can't tell how conscious the earthling is of his effect. The briefings said that the earthlings hadn't developed psionics.

"Do you sit by the bedside of all your refugees?"

"Actually, you're in the Captain's cabin. We're an exploration vessel, not one designed for combat. You just got lucky that I happened to have the space to spare."

Arumat's lips twitch. Lucky isn't a word he's heard used to describe himself for years.


End file.
